


Blink 3 Times

by Effenay



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, I'm Bad At Summaries, Inspired by ex machina, Inspired by wings of desire, LITERALLY, Muteness, Parallel Universes, Romance, Science Experiments, Science Fiction, Slight character study focus, Slow Burn, So summaries are subject to change, Star-crossed, a slight scifi fantasy, no guarantees on where this will go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9286235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Effenay/pseuds/Effenay
Summary: I see you.I see you but you cannot hear me.I see you but you cannot feel me.I see you but you cannot have me.I see you but you cannot need meProject Alter. A program designed to connect with the existing parallel world through a ‘seam-rip’ in space. The project involved using the data they discovered through the Hubble-space telescope and created a simulation experiment in hopes of making contact to the parallel universe by sending the simulation data to the other side. Gene Paris, one of the participants of the experiment meets a man through the simulation who bears a striking resemblance to a long forgotten past.





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Words in italics with a "_" is a dialogue in either writing or sign language.  
> Words in italic with '_' is past conversations.  
> Words in italic without apostrophes are thoughts and sometimes flashbacks.
> 
> No guarantees on how far I'll go with this plot, or any chance of getting it finished. but. since I am just more concept then plot or story, I am willing to hear what people would say regarding this.

_I see you._

_I see you but you cannot hear me._

_I see you but you cannot feel me._

_I see you but you cannot have me._

_I see you but you cannot need me._

She raised a glass into her eye-level, peering the world through a curved angle. The light glared through the clear glass as the numerous faces in her view were magnified by its natural convex shape. And there she spotted him, his peregrine eyes darted at the empty chair as he rubbed his forehead with the back of his visible, varicose-veined hands.

His hands, not eyes were the first thing that she spotted in him, although the visible dark curls on his head was the second most visible trait that stood out to her. His hands reflected his dedication to his life’s hard work, his veins were a testament to that. The blisters and callouses on his palms were thick and firm, reminding her of her long lost days.

He was sitting amongst the chairs and tables of an open-house garden café. Bushels of flowers of the exotic kind arranged in a Victorian garden design, elegant roses varying from summer pink and spring-yellow petals decorated on the asphalt floor. He sat alone, his eyes with a steady focus on the empty chair. On his table, a set of an expensive china tea set arranged in such a way that was reachable within his grasp. He waited in silence as the brew of tea leaves settled inside the teapot, rather, his vacant eyes suggested that he wasn’t paying attention to anything at all.

Some part of Gene wanted to climb down the steps from the balcony where she was currently sitting. In her mind, she wished to walk indiscreetly towards the man and settle into the vacant seat, asking him his name or his contact details.

 _If words are seen, not spoken,_ she thought, _things would have made it easier for me._

She had a mouth but had no tongue. Rather, she has a tongue but had been cut short enough that she had trouble pronouncing the sound of every word. But there was no need for her to speak in the first place. After all, she was only there to observe and analyse the scenery before her.

And then, within that instant, their eyes met through the glass she was looking through. Almost immediately she plonked the object onto the table, her head bent down low as she stood up left the scenery.

She then blinked once, the scenery before her blurred. She blinked the second time, her vision blurred into a hazy mist. When she blinked the third time, the scene before her changed into a small chamber room with small lightbulbs on its walls, arranged into a grid-like fashion.

The door behind her swung open, a familiar face popping into her view the moment she turned her head around.

“So how was it, Gene?” Myra, her friend asked her. “What do you think of that?”

Gene pulled a smile across her face.

Her hands replied;

_“It’s was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”_

* * *

 

“It’s obvious by now that there are still too many restriction with what we have now,” Myra explained as she escorted Gene out of the test room. “The project is still underway, but the development team have just recently found a way to interact with the subjects within the capsule.”

The project was called ‘Project Alter’, a program designed to connect with the existing parallel world through a ‘seam-rip’ in space. They discovered the seam-rip through the Hubble-space telescope within the last 30 years. Although much of this project was kept secret from the eyes of the public, only a handful of government officials and other secret intelligence networks were made aware of their discoveries.

“So far, what you see and hear in the capsule are only fragments of the data we received through Hubble, so basically what you saw back there might have already passed us centuries ago.”

Gene opened her mouth out of habit, but then typed in her e-pad saying;

_“Like the stars then.”_

Myra peered at the words and replied;

“Yeah, basically. Chances are, the subjects you saw through the capsule are already dead by the time we received the message.”

Gene gave a sullen smile, with all things considered, she was a little sad knowing that what she saw in the capsule was just a ghost of a long forgotten reality. The sight of his peregrine eyes that locked with hers brought an ache in her chest.

 _“How many other lab rats are participating in this project aside from me?”_ Gene typed on her e-pad.

Myra wryly smiled upon reading the words on the screen.

“There are nine participants. Ten, including you. There are five males, five females. Each of them represent a different generation. Let’s just say it’s a gap of ten to fifteen years each for both genders.”

_“But no elderly people?”_

“Of course. We can’t have them die out of a heart attack within the capsule while the experiment is taking place.”

_“No children either.”_

“No children among the test subjects. No teens either.”

The two of them reached the analyst lab no. 8, Myra then stopped them in their tracks before entering the lab.

“Remember what I told you,” her friend said with clear caution. “Whatever you saw back there in the capsule, take it with a grain of salt. Some of our participants in the past were removed because of how often they linked the subjects with their past experiences. Even some were too emotionally invested to be fit to continue.”

 Gene smirked at her friend.

 _“I’ll see how I’ll go,”_ her hands said to her.

Myra pulled out her name tag and tapped it onto the scanner which was followed by the sound of a bolt unlocking from the inside.

“Oh and Gene,” her friend added as they entered the lab. “When you’re done with the assessment, meet me in the cafeteria.”

 _“What’s wrong?”_ Gene’s hands asked her.

“Oh you know, catch up? We haven’t been able to talk since grad.”

Gene then smiled as she nodded, turning her head to the analyst in the room. The sound of clacking shoes trailed away behind her, followed by the sound of the room in an automatic lock. The analyst in charge, along with his two assistants then gestured to Gene to have a seat by the desk.

“I’m Morrie Jacks,” he raised an open hand to her. “From this point onwards, I’ll be your aid in processing the experiences you had inside the capsule. I’ll be keeping track of your mental, physical and emotional health as well as assist you in your thought process regarding the project experiment.”

Gene then took his hand and shook it with a firm grip, releasing it quickly as she began moving her hands to communicate. One of the assistants then began to interpret her words aloud.

“She says: ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the assistant read her hands aloud. “‘I know that it will be difficult for you to… have a two-way discussion with someone who cannot speak out… Would you prefer if I write to you rather than have… an interpreter speak for me?’”

The analyst chuckled.

“Whatever floats your boat, Miss Paris,” he smiled as he said so. “Although, I can’t help but notice that you’re still struggling with your sign language. Pardon me for point it out.”

Gene shook her head and opened her mouth, only have an odd sound escape from her lips. She closed lips shut as she reddened in embarrassment. With nervous hands she tried to think of a calculative way of expressing what she had in mind.

“‘You are… excused’,” the assistant interpreted. “I know I should be practicing with my signs… but sometimes there are times when I can’t express myself properly with it… Sometimes it’s easier to write how I feel.”

“Well, then,” Jacks said with a shrug. “If it’s easier for you to write, I’ll be happy to oblige. So, how would you like for me to call you, Miss Paris or just Gene?”

 _“‘Gene,’”_ her hands replied with a few visible tremors.

“Okay, Gene. I’ll be looking forward to working with you from here on.”

* * *

 

_“Are all participants designated to a separate analyst or is it only Dr Jacks who processes them?”_

Gene passed her e-pad to Myra as they ate their share of the noon meal.

“All participants are designated to a separate analyst,” Myra said, wiping her mouth with a tissue. “Personally though, I think it’s unwise to have one analyst for every participant. It’s a tad bit unethical; not exactly a smart way of handling this project’s budget; and susceptible to affecting the results of this experiment. In short, I think it’s a bit illogical.”

 _“Why so? I can’t seemed to see it that way,”_ Gene wrote in her e-pad.

“Well, to someone who’s not experienced in the scientific field it might not look that way. But under normal experiments, the processing is done by one or two facilitators at most. That way, the analyst has an equal amount of time for every participant and has an objective approach when inquiring how the participant feels or what they understand from what they’ve experienced.”

_“Is that so?”_

Myra nodded eagerly as she gulped a glass of iced water and added.

“Of course, this is just my opinion though.”

Gene took a bite out of her portion of the pie, her shoulders hunched as she turned her view to the window. After the meeting with the analyst while having to go through numerous neurological tests and check-ups left her feeling slightly despondent towards her participation with the project. The images she saw within the capsule dazzled her, elated her to a point where she thought she couldn’t contain the euphoria in her system.

And yet after the meeting, Dr. Jacks carefully dissecting her experiences through his cold, clinical questions seemed to downplay the excitement that had been building up in her system. It was to be expected, that much she could understand, but the fact that his inquiries felt cold and analytical to her, she could already foresee that she’ll be dreading these sessions in the near future.

So,” Myra suddenly burst in clear enthusiasm. “What do you think?”

Gene made an inquisitive face.

“Don’t give me that look,” her friend mockingly chided at her. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Myra then silently mouthed the words; “Dr. Jacks, the analyst.”

_“Oh.”_

Gene made a slow nod when she realized whom she was talking about. In reply, she gestured one word;

_“Cold.”_

“Cold?”

Gene nodded, repeating the gesture; _“Cold.”_

* * *

 

To Gene, Dr Morrie Jacks seemed less of a man and more of a high functioning AI she had seen in many old science-fiction movies. The kind of AI that displayed human emotions but not human enough to empathize or to be willing enough to connect with her or tell her what he has to say. Of course, it was to be expected, given that it’s not in his job description to share anything on his side of the story. He only fed her facts, not sympathy or mutual enthusiasm towards her experience. He was an analyst, and she was just a lab rat to the project.

She sighed, clenching the sides of the sink in her designated bathroom. Looking at her own reflection, she nervously eyed the visible pores on her nose, her old, scarred spots on her face. Gene then curled her hand into an ‘o’, closed one eye as she looked through the loop of her hand with her opened eye. Her thoughts returning to her experience within the ‘capsule’ chamber room.

 _It almost felt similar to this, wasn’t it?_ She ghosted the motion of holding an invisible spyglass, looking at her own face in the mirror as she re-enacted her experience within the capsule. Suddenly feeling silly of how ridiculous she must have appeared, she let her hands fall to her sides, opening her other eye.

 _‘Professor Keely informed us that you used to speak.’_ Jacks said during the processing session. _‘It was mentioned in your profile that you were a key witness in a court case, and that you were kidnapped at some point by the family member of the accused.’_

Gene closed her eyes, trying to recall the images of the events of that day. As much as she wanted to speak to someone about what happened, she couldn’t remember the details of what happened to her. The only proof of that incident was how her tongue was cut short and the weary pain she felt on her limbs.

She hesitantly opened her mouth in front of the mirror, staring at what is now a stub of what used to be her tongue. She moved the red stub at will, almost peeved at the reminder that she could no longer reach her two front teeth or whistle or taste things at its fullest flavours due to the shortness of its length. She still has some of it left, but it was too short for her to pronounce words clearly.

Many relationships were destroyed by the loss of her tongue. It amazes her every single time upon that knowledge alone, but she wouldn’t hold it against anyone. The unconscious bias that everyone has, regardless of whether they were aware of it or not, people often tread carefully towards the things they can’t relate to.

 _Stop it Gene,_ she shook the thought away. _Stop thinking. There’s no use remembering everything that’s happened. Happy thoughts. Think of happy thoughts._

She then returned her thoughts to what she saw in the capsule. The open-house garden café. The burst of spring colours. Petals with a variety of rosy hues scattered on the asphalt floor. A man with peregrine eyes; striking eyes of a falcon whose focus directed towards the empty chair.

Gene realized she failed to mention that one of the subjects within the capsule appeared to have eye-contact with her, making a mental note to mention it on their next session.

The more she thought about the capsule, the more she became enthralled about the numerous things a parallel universe could possibly have. Her imagination running wild at the idea of it.

A chirp of her phone sang out from the other room, bringing her to leave the bathroom and into the bedroom. Lifting the phone into her view, she swiped to read the message.

_“Blink 3 times.”_

It seemed to be coming from a private number, much to her annoyance. She considered the possibility it might be coming from one of the project facilitators. Knowing that those were the same instructions that were given to her when she entered the ‘capsule’ chamber room. Gene glanced at the time and saw it was already close to 11:00 pm, and so she switched off all the lights and slipped into the covers. Raising her mobile screen into her view, she reread the message.

_Blink 3 times._

Curiosity was an aspect of her nature she couldn’t refuse, despite the many consequences she had gone through because of that. Without another thought she blinked once, twice and three times regardless, as it seemed harmless in her perspective.

Upon opening her eyes the third time, she saw nothing. Nothing but her room veiled in shadow. She sighed disappointingly, turning her body to the side as she resigned herself to the sands of sleep. Her breathing slowed down to a fixed pattern, unaware of herself breathing in the scent of roses and chamomile as a velvet petal delicately floated down onto her open hand.


	2. Synchronized

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how often I'll update this? Well. I have no idea. to those of you who are familiar I am terrible with a constant update. I update whenever I could so thank you so much for being patient with me regarding my terribleness of organizing and stuff.  
> Here I am, 2:27 am. doing this. So. Enjoy and don't hold back on the reviews and comments regarding any sort of mistakes you could find.  
> Cheers.

In her dreams, she spoke eloquently. Screaming, laughing, making terrible jokes and lashing out words she wanted to say.

She never liked dreams. They only serve purpose on giving her false hope; a reflection of everything that was repressed in reality. Worse still was the fact that at times, they coincide with the problems that she’s had to face.

“May I join you?” she asked him.

 _‘Him’_ meaning the subject whom she spotted through the simulation within the capsule.

His eyes lit up, striking her with a fierce gaze. A second later, his glare softened into that of a polite mannerism.

“Aren’t there other seats available?” he asked.

“They’re all taken though,” she gestured at the occupied seats on every table. “I’m sorry. If you do mind it at all, I could leave.”

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head politely. “But I wish to be alone.”

“Oh,” she nervously nodded, being made aware that he clearly didn’t want company. “Sorry for intruding.”

* * *

 

Gene found herself coughing in her wake, her throat tight with a dry rasp which brought her to sit up. When she finally calmed down, she wearily flopped back onto the bed and grabbed her phone.

_“6:49 am.”_

She groaned as she pulled back the covers, wearily walked her way to the bathroom. She then splashed her face with cold water to awaken her senses.

_‘I wish to be alone.’_

A fragment of her troublesome memory echoed in her mind. The thought of seeing hopes fulfilled within a dream often brought her to a verge of tears, knowing that it was a reality she could never grasp.

_This is why I hate dreams._

She shook the thought away, carrying on with her morning ritual as she prepared herself for the day ahead of her.

* * *

 

He swiped onto the next page on his tablet, reading participant no. 8’s account towards the simulation experiment. Morrie twiddled with his fingers, entwining them and disentangling them anxiously as his superior read through his report.

“Jacks,” the elderly man said, his gaze still focused on the tablet screen. “So based on your interview with no. 8, by far, she’s the least compatible with the simulation within the capsule. Shortest simulation time among all of the ten participants in group B.”

“N-no, I never said that in my report,” Morrie stumbled on his words. “What I’ve written is solely based on the facts I’ve gathered. So far, day one of the simulation has proven to be successful. The fact that she was able to pin-point the details she saw within the data is more than sufficient as proof.”

“So basically if the participant is made aware of the finer details of the data, the shorter the time they spend within the capsule?” the old man gave him a sardonic look.

“Th-that’s not what I said-”

“Well, the way you write your reports seemed to be leaning towards that direction.”

Morrie gritted his teeth, wondering if whether the next thing he’d say to him would add more tension to the room.

His superior appeared to have taken note of his silence and sighed while shaking his head.

“Jacks,” his superior began. “You’re new, but you’re not a spring chicken within this field. The only reason you were selected was because you seemed capable enough of keeping an oath of silence. Not only that you, like the rest of the analysts are specialists within this secret operative. But the way I see it, you need to step up on how you’re writing your reports. Make your point come across a little clearer in your words, but keep it at a professional level.”

“…Yes.”

Morrie reluctantly nodded.

“I’m sorry Jacks, I know this is gonna be hard on you with this job. Especially after what happened last time-”

“Yeah.”

“-No one’s gonna blame you if you drop out of ‘Alter.’ But if you are determined to continue working on this project, you’re going to have to step up on your way of handling things.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll do my best.”

* * *

 

Project Alter was held within a facility located in a deep forested area, hidden in plain sight aside from the large satellite dish that stuck out of the sea of trees. The population within the facility were around 400 occupants or so on, which included security personnel, scientists of different fields, cleaners, maintenance, etc. The architecture itself could almost be mistaken for a luxury five-star hotel, modernity written all over its infrastructure aside from the areas where the experiments and other analytical procedures take place.

Participants of the project (the ‘lab-rats’ Gene refer themselves as) were all separated; isolated from each other to avoid affecting the outcomes of the simulation experiment. Each of them designated to rooms that provided them their daily needs. Based on what Myra had told her, Gene was designated to the ‘B’ group variable; meaning that she was part of the second variable group of participants. Gene wasn’t exactly scientifically inclined, but she remembered fragments from both her psychology and math class enough for her to understand how these things worked.

She strode out of her room, recalling the questions in which she had posed to her friend during the briefing of the experiment.

_‘Why go through all these lengths when they could just do the experiments themselves? Why would you need to recruit an ordinary citizen to participate in this secret project?’_

_‘Well,’ Myra cleared her throat, ‘As someone whose job here is just to follow orders, I assure you, I have no inkling of an idea why. But I can only speculate: based on what we’ve found, the simulation doesn’t seemed to work for everybody. I was also one of the initial participants, but it seems as though I could only see a blur of the data within the capsule. I don’t know who’s compatible, or what fits the criteria in order for the simulation to work; but I can tell you that you are one of the lucky ones.’_

_The lucky ones, huh,_ Gene scoffed at the thought.

She strode her way down the steps and into the cafeteria where they served their morning meals. Picking up a meal tray from the pile, she stepped into the end of a fairly long que of occupants; instinctively scanning the crowd in hopes of meeting a familiar face. Like lone islands within the vast ocean, she felt the disparity of how isolating it is to be part of a populace full of strangers.

 _It is when I am in a crowd do I see myself alone,_ she quoted in her thoughts.

For whatever reason there was, she counted on the possibility that in isolating a person away from all forms of familiar figures might have been part of the experiment. Based on her knowledge regarding of what Myra told her, compatibility with the simulation data might only apply to those who are devoid of social interaction.

But of course, this was only based on mere speculation on Gene’s end.

As she drew closer to the buffet table, the aroma of strong herbs and spices made her nose twitch and her stomach gurgling loudly. A small chuckle was heard from the person who stood in front of her, much to her own embarrassment. Her cheeks glowed pink, refusing to look at the person in front of her as she shovelled a scoop of soup into a bowl on her tray.

Gene felt a pair of eyes pointing towards her back, the feeling of someone glowering at the little scene she made just then. Some part of her felt compelled to look up and see whether she was wrong on her senses, but her instincts told her to not look up.

“Ahem,” a staff member behind her cleared her throat, presupposing that she was taking too long on that specific area of the buffet table. Being made aware of the gap between her and the man in front, she scuttled forward to the next area, browsing at the choices that were laid out on the table.

Gene then sat down on a table closest to the window, situated at the corner of the cafeteria. There she saw the sky in its brilliant azure hue, the colour of the early morning sky in contrast to the sea of emerald trees. She was in awe of its scenery since she first spotted it within the view of her car window.

“Is this seat taken?”

Gene tilted her head up and saw Dr Jacks standing in front of the empty chair before her.

She shook her head without thinking, contrary to how she didn’t entirely welcome the idea of sharing tables.

“Sorry, wrong question,” the analyst then quickly added. “You don’t mind if I-?”

Regardless of how she didn’t like silence between her and the man she had just met, oddly enough she gestured her hand to let him have a seat.

“Thank you, Gene,” he said as he plonked his tray onto the table, settling onto the seat. “You have no idea how hard it is to find a seat in this block of the facility.”

She gave him a quick smile before she began digging into her meal.

A short silence ensued, a thick awkward tension hovered over her head. In the beginning, she had always spoken so little words; always somewhat aloof to a certain degree with strangers. It was difficult enough to break the ice without speaking, but to break it to a man whom she had just talked about the other day made things more difficult. Not that she wouldn’t mind at all if there is silence between them, but she would mind it if he isn’t comfortable to share the table with her in silence.

“…So… how are you fairing with this?”

His question caught her midway from taking another spoonful of soup to her lips.

With her free hand, she took out her e-pad, and typed;

_“What do you mean?”_

“…I mean the facility… are you getting the hang of things around here?”

 _“So-so,”_ she gestured her hand.

“I see.”

“…”

She turned her head back to the scenery by the window, her eyes immediately lost to the endless sea of trees. Dr Jacks on the other hand eyed at her device beside her, seemingly eager to fill the void of silence in Gene’s perspective.

 _Don’t assume,_ she told herself, _don’t assume he’s like everyone else._

“You’re device, I’ve never seen anything like it before,” he pointed at her e-pad.

She pointed at the device quizzically.

_Don’t assume he’s going to-_

“Yes, that one,” the analyst nodded. “At first I thought it was just a normal android device, but then it looks custom made.”

Gene then typed on the screen, then flipped the screen to his view.

_“It was given to me as compensation after the incident. I’m not technologically inclined really, so I don’t really know a thing about smartphone models.”_

As he read the words, he nodded as though he understood.

“May I?” he asked as he opened his palm on the table.

_Don’t assume he’ll be like the rest of them-_

Instinctively, she passed the device to his palm. He flipped the phone from side to side as he observed the surface of the device.

It was an intriguing piece of technology, even to Gene’s eyes. Its model was similar to an average android, wide screen with a light on the side of the device. Two buttons for volume control on one side, another three buttons on the other side for three functions; off/on switch, play button and another button designated to allow an SD card to slot itself in it. On its surface was a home button, back button and task bar. What was intriguing about the device was really the software installed into it.

“This looks custom made,” said the analyst, nodded to himself as he flipped it on its back. “It’s almost like a pager, if anything, but it doesn’t look like it has some connection to the internet, does it?”

Gene shook her head. The device in itself was given to her as her only means of communication, if she used her phone to speak for her, she wouldn’t have enough space in her phone’s capacity.

She stretched out her hand, silently asking for the device back for her to say what she wanted to say. Dr Jacks then passed it back, allowing her to type down in response.

_“It does have an internet browser, but I want to limit my access to the internet to my phone only.”_

The analyst nodded as soon as he finished reading.

After taking another spoon full of the soup, Gene then remembered the one small detail she failed to mention during the processing session. Typing up the words she wanted to say, she then passed it onto the analyst’s hand, gesturing for him to read.

After she assumed he had finished reading, his eyes widened as his brow arched at the contents.

“Is that so?” he said. “You mean to say that the subject who you found yourself observing actually had eye-contact with you? Are you certain?”

She nodded.

“Well, that really does change a lot of things,” he muttered, clearly bemused at the revelation. “That’s wonderful. Brilliant! Is it alright if you could send me what you’ve shown me? I’m going to need to add that to my report.”

With the device still remaining in his hands, she gestured for it back. The analyst in response fumbled in his excitement as he passed it back.

 _“Of course,”_ she wrote. _“I just need your email address.”_

“Here you go,” he handed over his card after he finished reading off the screen. “It has all my contacts in there. If there are other things that you could remember, please do send me a message. Now excuse me, I think I’m going to have to go now.”

As soon as he said that, he picked up his tray and carried it off, disappearing into the hallway. After being left alone, Gene pouted at his sudden rush.

 _Just when things were getting interesting,_ she grumbled, taking another spoon of soup to her mouth.

* * *

 

Her next scheduled session within the capsule was designated to the afternoon, giving her enough time to prepare herself. Myra, who was in charge of briefing her the instructions began to discuss the newly added feature in the capsule.

“Now, I mentioned to you before that they’ve found a way to interact with the subjects within the simulation, right?”

Gene nodded.

“They’ve discovered it through one of the participation’s simulations, he accidentally brought with him a set of keys in his pocket into the capsule. During the simulation session, there was a cat within the simulation that reacted to the sound of his keys when he took it out of his pocket. He thought it was a coincidence but when he started jangling the keys, the participant received a late response. The subject’s reaction time was almost half an hour, but regardless, the subject reacted.”

Myra then led her into the capsule, a few men from the maintenance staff were also within the room, installing a microphone onto the centre space.

“This is going to be difficult, Gene, particularly in your case,” her friend said with a hint of caution. “So far after we’ve received this confirmation, we tried applying the same experiment with other participants. So far, it seems that three out of the ten participants were successful using the method of sound to reach out to the other side. The responses we’ve received from the subjects were minimal gestures, but not enough to show signs of acknowledgement of their presence.”

 _“So basically, I have to make sounds for the next simulation session?”_ Gene’s hands responded.

“If you aren’t comfortable, we could make exceptions and exempt you from taking part of the audio implement.”

Gene lowered her head, grimacing at the facts. She hated the way she sounded like when she spoke with half of a tongue in her mouth. Although she understood that no one would judge her for it, she would refuse to speak aloud if it meant looking like an idiot.

But regardless of the matter, in the end this was all for the sake of results.

She sighed disgruntledly, taking out her e-pad device and typing the words;

_“I’ll give it a shot. Just don’t make me speak.”_

“Are you sure?”

_“For the sake of results, I’m willing to take part of it.”_

Myra dubiously looked at her briefly, then smiled.

“Thank you Gene, for following along with this.”

_“Don’t worry about it.”_

* * *

 

**_“Simulation session number 16.2, transferring data.”_ **

Gene was sitting down on the middle of the floor within the capsule chamber, her eyes wide open as she waited for further instructions.

**_“Data transferred. No. 8 please close your eyes.”_ **

Gene closed her eyes as she began to inhale a deep breath.

For the simulation to be achieved, there were three things that were required: the capsule, a participant and a modified headgear that was said to have been modelled after the ‘God-helmet’ or Koren Helmet.* The headgear itself played a vital role within the simulation session, acting as a pin-hole camera that translates the data they receive into the individual’s head. Although there was a much needed explanation as to how the whole simulation works, on Gene’s end, she honestly wouldn’t care less of the details.

**_“Clear your mind of all thoughts and breathe slowly.”_ **

Gene evened her breath, inhaling and exhaling deeply as she allowed her body to relax. She felt the tensions of her muscles loosen as she slowly lose her sense of her legs folded on the ground.

**_“No. 8 when you are ready, open your eyes.”_ **

Her eyelids peeled open, seeing the chamber room in complete darkness.

**_“Now. When the grid lights in the room gradually light up, you close your eyes. When the lights would decrease in brightness, open your eyes. You will need to do this three times. Please follow the instructions in sync with the lights.”_ **

She saw the grid lights gradually brighten, signalling her to close her eyes. Behind her eyelids, she could sense the glaring lights threatening to blind her vision. As soon as the lights grew dim, she slowly opened her eyes and met with the darkness. When the lights began to brighten once more, she repeated the same instructions until the third and final time.

In her view, she saw the walls around her disappear, only to be replaced by the sight of a blurring fog.

**_“You are now synchronized with the data. On your own time, please blink three times and begin the experiment.”_ **

Gene then blinked once, her vison suddenly less hazy than it was earlier. She blinked the second time, she perceived the contour of shapes and hazy figures. She blinked the third time, there she found herself standing at the edge of a terrace, overlooking a great garden under the moonlight.

“May I join you?”

She gasped a little, bringing her to swiftly spin her head around, only to be met with a man who stood a good few paces away from her. Almost immediately she recognized him.

The man with peregrine eyes, staring directly at her direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *note: God-helmet/Koren helmet, a helmet created by a guy named Stanley Koren. (interested? you can google it cause its one complicated, controversial experiment)


	3. Simulation Session no. 16.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In all honesty I am still trying to discover this story as I go (not a very good way of writing, I know) but I'm still trying to get to know this story as well as the characters and personally, I don't really know how far I will go with it. So enjoy their first encounter!

Myra kept track of Gene’s brainwaves on her tablet, bemused at the sight of how her friend was easily linked with the simulation. The microphone and headset that were attached to her head were removed as she handed over the tablet to one of her colleagues.

“Just going out for a drink,” she announced to the rest of the crew. “Does anyone want anything?”

The rest of the crew either shook heads or voiced their decline of the offer. Having seen their responses, she took off the observation lab and pulled out her purse to see how much she could afford.

 _Enjoy yourself, Gene,_ she thought to herself. _I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for._

* * *

 

Gene blinked at the sight of the man before her, his stature a lot taller than what she had perceived in her first simulation. He wore a suit and tie, a small, floral décor of a bud of a rose and three chamomile flowers pinned to his side pocket. The curls on his head were cropped shorter and kept tidily to the side. His hands dug deep into his pockets.

 ** _“No.8, you are not in sync with the data, please tap two times if you are having trouble with your perception.”_** One of the facilitators from the observatory radioed her through the headset. **_“If you can see things clearly, tap once.”_**

Gene tapped once on the surface of the terrace as she waited for a response unconsciously, her eyes unable to tear away her gaze away from the man’s eyes.

“Is everything alright?” he asked her.

She then pointed to herself questioningly, wondering how on earth she was able to make contact with the man. The man then strode next to her, leaning against the edge of the terrace as he rested his arms against the stone surface. His hands were clasped together, entangling and detangling them with clear nervous tremors.

“Actually, who am I kidding,” he added in a forlorn chuckle. “Anyone who’d be standing in the middle of a terrace alone wouldn’t be alright. I could only make two guesses: either you had too much for one night or you didn’t really ask to be here but had no choice but to stay a little longer here.”

Gene opened her mouth, but considered that the chances are she wouldn’t be heard.

“Well, since you’re here, and I’m here,” he rested his chin on the palm of his hand. “Could you just… listen to what I have to say?”

Without waiting for her reply, he began to ramble his thoughts.

“I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” he sighed. “I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself.”

Gene clenched her teeth to refrain herself from speaking. She couldn’t really tell whether he could see her or not, but judging by the way he spoke, he’s either mad enough to speak to himself or he was speaking towards her and her alone. Just to make sure, she turned from side to side, only to see that they were the only ones within the terrace.

“Of course, silence is always welcome regardless of whether you care less of what I have to say or not,” he continued rambling. “But sometimes I wonder, why bother? Why do I keep coming back? Am I here? Why do I even ask these questions when I’m here?”

 _Is this guy supposed to be from the other side of the universe?_ Gene couldn’t help but chuckle.

She walked away from the edge of the stone railings, experimenting how far she could wander around in this simulation. As she did so, his voice trailed off, turning his head around, following the direction of her movement.

“I suppose this is bothering you,” he said lowly. “I won’t blame you for feeling put-off. Maybe it’s because I’m just so desperate to get out of everything that’s happened. And here I am, rambling to a ghost who’s obviously not from this century or so on.”

The very words he said ceased all thought in her mind, which brought her to turn around and face him.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he added. “But I can guess. You’re either insulted that I’m calling you old fashioned for your clothes or just terribly confused that a stranger like me is just rambling his head off without giving you a second thought on how you feel.”

Under any normal circumstances, she’d expect herself to flare up and throw a sock on his face. But for the sake of science, she the man ramble on as she made a mental note to memorize every word he speaks.

He then perked his head up, making an inquisitive face.

“…Now that’s interesting,” he remarked, his eyes piercing a questioning gaze at her. “You don’t… seemed to be aware of who I am. Even better still, you don’t really have any inkling of an idea about what I am… Do you know who I am?”

Gene instinctively shook her head.

“…interesting.”

**_“No.8, interaction with the subject is critical, we will need for you to make contact with the subject.”_ **

The radio within the headset buzzed in her ear, prompting her to shake off any lingering doubt in her system. Gene strode towards the tall man, only to be made aware that she was losing her sense of touch; a sign that she was slowly becoming out of sync with the simulation.

**_“No.8, you are not in sync with the data, please try to remain calm and concentrate on the subject. If you wish to end this session, please tap two times. If you wish to continue, please tap once.”_ **

“Aii…” Gene tried to say the words with her own mouth. “Aii…”

The man blinked, clearly puzzled and curious at the same time. Gene stood a few paces away from him and stretched out her hand for him to shake it.

Seemingly reluctant to the gesture, the man then took her hand and squeezed it.

“My name is Vireo. Vireo Kardia,” he said.

Gene eyed his hand, shocked to find that she couldn’t feel his grip.

“You name is-?” he asked.

“J-sh…Jeeng…” she replied, struggling to pronounce her own name.

**_“No. 8 you are out of sync with the data, please follow the exit procedures.”_ **

Upon hearing that, she turned around and ran down the steps, not looking back at the man who called himself Vireo Kardia. She realized she was slowly losing her senses throughout her surroundings, and began to follow the protocol procedures.

She blinked once and the vision before her blurred into a haze. She blinked twice and the scenery before her vanishes into fog. The third time she blinked, she found herself facing the walls of the capsule, sitting down on a lotus position.

Her heart palpitating in her chest as she found herself gasping for air. The grid lights on the wall flashed its glaring light, followed by the sound of a door swinging open.

“Gene, are you alright?!”

Gene turned her head around slowly and saw Myra’s head poking through the door, casting a look of concern on her face.

“Gene?”

Gene slowly removed the headgear off her head, relieving her from weight that it carried. She huffed as she gave her friend a tired smile. Seconds after, she felt her ears ringing as a sickening muck began to climb up to her throat; forcing her to regurgitate whatever it was that she ate earlier in the day.

Myra panicked as she screamed her name in horror, Gene on the other hand clutched her abdomen with her two hands. After she spewed out chunks, her vision blackened out right before she could feel the weight of her body colliding onto the hard floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A penny for your thoughts? I'd like to know what you think.


	4. Scent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters are slowly setting themselves into stone, but there's still room for all sorts of directions from where this is going... so far as of this point really. I'm still trying to familiarize each character as to who they are or what kind of people they'll turn out to be.... in all honesty I feel like the romance aspect might not be working out so great.... Ah well. Happy reading.

A memory.

The van shook as they drove through the rocky ground, her hand held tightly by two hands that were larger than her own.

 _‘Stay with me,’_ a voice pleaded in a hoarse whisper. _“Stay with me, please.”_

She felt her head woozy as the surface beneath her shuddered.

_‘How much further?!’_

_’30 minutes more!’_ a man answered from the driver’s seat.

_‘Gene, hang on. Hang on, do hear?! Just stay with us a little longer!’_

From where she lay, she saw herself staring at the roof of the vehicle, three faces within her viewing range. Faces she couldn’t recognize, no matter how hard she tried to connect the dots.

_‘Gene, you have keep holding on, do you hear? I’m not letting you go that easily, do you hear me?!’_

_‘Stop that, you’re only pushing her even further!’_

_‘Oi, oi-’_

_‘Can you people at the back just shut up?! I’m trying to concentrate on the road!’_

Gene wearily tilted her head to the side and found herself staring at the two hands that held her hands tightly. They were warm and calloused as the visible, protruding veins snaked its way up to his knuckles.

 _What do they call them again?_ Her weary thoughts muttered. _Oh, that’s right. Varicose veins._

One of the hands that held her hand rubbed the pad of his thumb onto her knuckles in circles, trying to keep her calms as he continued to talk to her.

 _‘Don’t sleep Gene,’_ he pleaded. _‘If you sleep, we’ll lose you.’_

Her eyelids felt heavy on her end, the beating of her heart palpitating in her chest. She felt her body loosening its muscles as her view slowly faded to black.

_‘No. No…nononono Gene, fight it! Wake up! Wake. Up-!’_

* * *

 

Gene opened her eyes and tried to lift herself up, only to feel the weight of her head drawing her back onto the pillow with a groan. The nurse on duty hurriedly walked to her side, checking the monitor adjacent to her bed. Gene turned her head to the nurse sloppily, her head dizzily refused to cooperate in her desire to sit upright.

“Miss Paris, how are you feeling?” the nurse asked her.

Gene groaned, feeling her throat rasped and dry.

“You had a temporary shut-down just right after the session. Based on the scans, Dr Keely concluded that your brain went to overdrive during the simulation, causing you to become out of sync with the data.”

The nurse then tapped on the monitor, flashing her health status on the screen.

“Your next processing session has been delayed for another day or two, depending on the speed of your recovery.” She continued. “Dr Keely said that you need to wind-down and rest for at least two to three days. We’ll be patching you up in the meantime, making a few tests and check-ups while we’re at it.”

Gene tried to sit up, only to have the nurse push her back onto the bed.

“We can’t have you strain yourself,” the nurse said immediately. She then handed her a control to adjust the medical bed. “Use this if you want to sit up.”

After a few taps on the monitor screen, she made a satisfied nod and said;

“Looks like everything’s stable for now. I’m going to go now and have the doctor check on you, so whatever you do, please try not get all excited.”

With that said the nurse left the room, Gene groaned once again as soon as she felt an impending headache gradually building up around her forehead.

_‘Vireo Kardia.’_

A name that echoed in the depths of her memories. She questioned the very significance of the name, only to have her memories slowly pieced itself together.

Vireo Kardia. A man with varicose veins; whose eyes likened to that of a peregrine falcon; a man whom she had successfully contacted through the capsule simulation. Somehow the man’s face suddenly overlapped with a pre-existed memory that she couldn’t define no matter how hard she tried to muster to remember it.

_Dammit._

She had nothing to lose having to know that she had no memory of her tragic encounter, but for the first time she found herself desperately hoping to remember it.

She shifted her head to the side once more and felt another dizzy spell threatening to put her to sleep. Taking the control in her hand, she experimented on which button allowed her to sit up high enough. By the time she figured it out, the sound of a knock echoed in the room, followed by the sight of Myra popping her head through the half-closed door.

“Feeling better?” her friend asked.

Gene nodded sloppily.

“Um, yeah, I know that this is going to sound incredibly insensitive, but I’m in a rush to get some reports to the higher-ups,” Myra said hurriedly. “I would love to help you unwind some of the stuff we just discovered through your session but I can’t ignore this call so I’ll be back as soon as I get all these things organized… Sorry.”

Gene tried to raise her arms to speak, but found arms limp and heavy for her muscles to lift itself up.

“Oh and you’ve been sedated quiet heavily, so try not to strain yourself with that,” her friend quickly added before she disappeared from the doorway.

  _Wonderful,_ Gene rolled her eyes. Being bed-ridden wasn’t exactly a problem to her, but she didn’t deny its inconvenience. Especially if it involved being heavily sedated.

In a moment’s notice, she caught whiff of the scent of freshly picked flowers. Questioningly, she tried to scan the room in hopes of finding the source of the scent. The odour of rose petals mixed with other floral scents tugged out a nostalgic sensation within her bones as it triggered a need of wanting to leap out of the medical bed.

Two knocks at the door snapped her to her senses as she swiftly turned to the door. Within her view she saw Dr Jacks with an assistant next to him as he swung the door wide open. She curtly smiled at him for a greeting, he nodded back in response as he dragged a chair adjacent to the bed for him to face her.

He opened his mouth to speak, but crooked his neck to the assistant.

“Please hand over the device to her,” he instructed the nurse, “It’s her only communication device.”

The nurse presented her the e-pad, and planted it onto her free hand before Gene was able to stretch out her hand to take it.

“Unfortunately professor Keely won’t be able to attend to you,” the analyst explained. “I’ll be covering for him for a while until you have your strength back up.”

For some odd reason, Gene didn’t sit well with that. Awkward as their exchange was earlier, she never really knew how to handle people like him in the first place.

“I’ve been informed that the sedative won’t wear out after a while,” he added. “The current situation is that you are to be assessed by a few members of staff regarding the strong connection that you have just encountered. Based on their findings it is apparent that you were able to establish a strong connection with the data to a point where the system itself threatened to crash due to the overload of data.”

Gene lifted her chin up, wide-eyed at the revelation.

“The problem was that the brainwave signals we’ve picked up from the headgear suggested that the data was overwhelming your sensory nerves to a point of threatening your brain to shut down. In short, the session had almost fried your brain.”

He quirked a mischievous smirk on his lips at that last statement. Gene didn’t know whether she should be laughing at his horrible sense of humour or be just as horrified as the nurse who gaped at him in disgust.

“…Well,” he then cleared his throat. “Moving on. After your brain was sent to overdrive, they had no choice but to stop the session altogether before they lost you altogether. Keely made mention that there’s a chance that this might happen again, so they had to reassess the mechanics of the how they’re going to conduct the session, hence, why the professor isn’t available here to debrief you.”

With her lethargic hand, she began typing the words slowly onto the screen of her E-pad.

_“Does this mean I might not be fit enough to continue the sessions?”_

He bit his lip before he woefully answered; “It’s a possibility, depending on your recovery.”

She sighed despairingly at his confirmation.

“Professor Keely hesitated to have you continue with the experiment, based on the state of your condition.” Dr Jacks then hesitated for a moment but then added hollowly; “Usually I would be the sort to say that in the end it’s your decision whether you want to continue this or not. But if this incident will repeat itself within the successive simulation sessions, it’s going to reflect badly on the Project…”

She blinked at his last statement, almost appalled by his emphasis of Project Alter over the safety of its participants. If she had her tongue back, Gene wouldn’t hesitate to rebuke him.

The nurse who was accompanying him cleared her throat loudly, batting him an eye as if she was silently reprimanding him of his choice of words.

He gave one confused look at first, then his face scrunched up into a grim expression. Dr Jacks turned to Gene, then to the nurse who tilted her head at Gene.

He tightened his jaw and stood up.

“Are there any questions you’d like to ask?”

She shook her head.

“Oh,” he nodded a little. “Well then, I’ll leave you to your recovery. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to press that emergency button over there.”

Gene gave him a curt smile and a short nod as the analyst did his best at not trying to look like he was running away. The nurse trailed behind him, tilting her chin down slightly before she disappeared from the room.

And then once more she was left alone and immediately reminded of the sweet scent of flora that caught her attention. She was slowly feeling the effects of the sedative wearing off as she slowly felt the strength of her arm returning as she gripped her E-pad.

Gene then swivelled her head around the room, trying to see if there was a bouquet nearby or an automatic aerosol spray sitting against the wall or ceiling. As soon as she tried to move her torso, the scent grew stronger; bringing her to a halt altogether for a moment.

She breathed in the scent, relishing it as she continued to wonder why the scent was growing ever so strongly. She then tucked her hand underneath the blanket that had draped over her lower half, only to have felt a velvet sensation underneath the tips of her fingers.

She pushed a part of the sheet off of her slightly, tilting her head and saw a red petal and three heads of tiny white flowers with a tiny dome on its centre. Her eyes slowly widened, slowly pulling away the thin sheet off her lower limbs to find a few scattered petals of different hues and sizes across her bed. As soon as the sheet was pulled away, the scent had begun to overwhelm her nostrils.

And then, she felt the surface of the bed jitter for one second, bringing her to turn to her e-pad. She flipped the device into her view and with widening eyes, she read;

_“Hello again.”_

The first thing that clicked in her mind was the man who called himself Vireo Kardia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was not beta-read and as mentioned before, I am still trying to feel my way through this story so a review would be nice. :)


End file.
